


beauty

by aluinihi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Communication Failure, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Roy Mustang is in love, i mean there is a sincere attempt at comfort, i suppose could tag it as hurt no comfort but that would make it sound sadder than it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24745168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluinihi/pseuds/aluinihi
Summary: How selfish of him to be glad.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 8
Kudos: 95





	beauty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pointmade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pointmade/gifts).



> Thank you @p0intmade (twitter) for the support!

In Roy's humble opinion, some things could exist just to be beautiful under the sunlight. Stained glass, flowers, fresh paint. Shiny feathers, jewelry, steam from a hot cup of coffee. Edward Elric's hair splayed over the couch like liquid gold.

Breath hitching, he halted with a foot inside the room.

He looked around, careful even though it was too early for anyone else to be in the office, but his eyes quickly found their way back to the sleeping figure.

So _that_ was why the door was unlocked.

What a pleasant surprise it was, to not have to worry about an intruder. And, if Roy ignored the implications on how terrible Central's Headquarters defenses must be, what a pleasant surprise it was, to see Edward when he thought he would never again.

Roy stepped inside as quietly as possible to not disturb him. Edward had changed significantly on these few years they spent apart, though at the same time, not a single bit. His taste for clothing might have matured — from bright red and leather to shades of brown and a button-up — but he still seemed to think of himself as the owner of the inner office's couch. Just like in the past, in those rare times Roy had caught him napping, he slept as sprawled as the surface allowed: an arm under his head, the other over his belly, feet propped up by the armrest. But now, both his arms were flesh and Creta had given him a darker tan, and time had given him sharper cheekbones, broader shoulders, and a slim waist.

At some point, the eye-catching boy had become a sight to behold.

Suddenly, Roy's joy soured into something more guilty.

How selfish of him to be glad, to stand next to the couch admiring. Edward slept peacefully and Roy observed from unsafe distance, too busy looking at a beauty he couldn't touch to think about the actual important bits.

_Why?_

Immediately, his brain began to provide a litany of scenarios that he would much rather not believe. He wished he could turn back, leave the office, and come back later to find it empty — even if that meant never seeing Edward again, at least that would mean he was _fine_ , kept entertained by whatever his travels offered. Maybe he should turn back, offer him some privacy. If he had come _here_ , all alone, in the middle of the night—

In his musing, Roy wasted too much time and Edward stirred, eyelids fluttering open as he frowned at the offending sunlight. Roy's heart ached in a way it shouldn't.

It took Edward a few mortifyingly long seconds to acknowledge his surroundings and Roy's presence — then, he jumped, sitting as upright as humanly possible. Roy slapped away the thought of how his eyes were still as intense and breathtaking as always, trying to come up with something to say to break this awful silence, and Edward, mercifully, beat him to it:

"What time is it?"

Not the smoothest choice, perhaps, but one should live with what they get.

"A little bit past seven," Roy said. "Tell me, should I be worried about Central's lack of security or about what inspired you to master the art of lockpicking so thoroughly?"

Edward released a breath as if it had been punched out of him, but it didn't seem to be a bad thing. His shoulders relaxed, at least. Roy's playful tone was familiar territory. "It's always been shit security," he snorted, "if it let a teenager roam around bringing buildings down."

Roy could concede to that.

But the more he tried to avert his eyes from Edward's tense posture, the more he couldn't hold back. He stepped closer to the couch and there was no reaction beyond that pair of golden eyes following his movement. He took a seat next to him.

"Should I ask?"

Heart hammering, Roy watched Edward squirm — but ultimately, not move away. The seconds passed too slowly before the answer came. "Since when do you need permission to start asking your questions?"

"I'm not your boss anymore." He sighed. _Nor your friend._ "And although this is _my_ office and I do want to ask—"

"Then _ask_."

A sentence that sounded jaw-droppingly genuine — perhaps even a bit hurried — paired with a look that Roy prayed to all gods he was interpreting wrong— Roy shouldn't ask. He really shouldn't. But he already had a long list of " _shouldn't_ "s that he had done anyway, so what is one more?

"Why are you here, Edward?"

_From all the places you could go_ , Roy needed to know.

A short, dry laugh crushed his heart and Roy had to witness a tipping point he didn't understand.

Edward had always been an open book and simultaneously a mystery — and there is something about mysteries that keeps them beautiful as long as unrevealed. And there was something about watching Edward Elric cover his face with both hands that revealed more than Roy was ready to see. His shoulders shook, and so did his arms, and his legs, until his whole body was overtaken by a shiver and Roy was restraining himself because he wanted to— to touch and—

There were no sobs, no sighs; in fact, it was suddenly so quiet that Roy was afraid to make a guess. As he watched the slow, deliberate movements of Edward's chest, Roy felt like an intruder, an unwanted observer who should do something, yet every act he could think of seemed to overstep a boundary. Roy yearned for closure, to hold, to comfort — but realization hit him like a punch and he hesitated.

This wasn't about being _here_.

It was about _not being anywhere else_.

And so, everything became much clearer and much more painful.

He looked at Edward, at how he hid his face under his palms, at how his lip quivered once before he bit it. Roy put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in.

"Allow me to rephrase it," he said. "For how long have you been here?"

Edward took a deep breath, then let his hands fall on his lap. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks were dry. Staring at some point away from Roy, he shrugged. "'Here' as in Central or as in," he gestured vaguely at the room, "here?"

"Central."

Another shrug. "Since yesterday, around lunchtime."

"Did you eat?"

Edward turned to glare at him as if he had lost his mind.

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

Roy gave him a polite little smile.

"I'm asking because the cafeteria still has the best egg sandwich in town," he said matter-of-factly. "And I would venture to say that neither of us had breakfast today."

Perhaps he should’ve felt bad, to some degree — but dealing with Edward's anger was easier and, frankly, the usual. The scowl fit him better, even when contrasting with the image of his peaceful sleep from a few minutes ago. When the sunlight touched Edward like this, he was still beautiful. But a beauty that Roy could touch.

"God, you're so…" he groaned, "Whatever. Okay, fine. I'm starving anyway."

Roy stood up and waited for him to lead the way.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was okay!  
> hmu on twitter [@aluinihi](https://twitter.com/aluinihi)


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